Diana opened her eyes slowly, her senses waking before her thoughts did.
The first thing she noticed was warmth.
Solid. Steady. Protective.
Her cheek was pressed against a broad, firm chest, rising and falling in a slow rhythm beneath her. Strong arms were wrapped around her waist, one heavy hand resting possessively at her hip.
Where is she? Diana thought groggily. This is not my room.
Then she inhaled.
Pine. Smoke. Steel. Power.
Talon.
Her mate.
Memory rushed back in a flood.
The drive.
The tension.
The urgency in Talon’s voice as he ordered the convoy to move immediately after the interrogation. They hadn’t stopped once. Not to rest. Not to eat properly. Not even when the sun dipped below the horizon and darkness swallowed the road.
When they left the Crimson Fang territory
